


Play the Game Tonight

by runsinthefamily



Series: Wayward [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Group Sex, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:13:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsinthefamily/pseuds/runsinthefamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the kmeme: <i>I need **more** of the continuing erotic adventures of that tantalizing threesome.</i></p><p><i>Would love to see Hawke and Anders teach Seamus to take them. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Play the Game Tonight

The Viscount's Keep was a-bustle that night with the elite of several cities. Starkhaven had not sent anyone, which was unsurprising, given Sebastian Vael's presence not only in Kirkwall but actually here at the ball. Garrett watched the man make polite small talk with the de Launcets and wondered if he was serious after all about taking his father's throne. Lady de Launcet kept glancing uneasily down at Vael's crotch. Surely he hadn't ...

Vael turned and waved companionably at Garrett and Garrett saw that indeed, he had. Andraste's face gazed implacably across the room. If the man could just become as attached to a cause as he was to that belt buckle ...

"You look ever so entertained, love." Anders tucked in next to him, looking edible in rich brown velvet. It had been nearly an hour-long argument to get him into the clothes but worth it, as far as Garrett was concerned. He looked like something honey and toasted and sinful.

"I hate these things," said Garrett. "I hate these people."

"Why did we come, then?"

"You know why." Garrett elbowed him lightly. "Couldn't leave the kid to suffer this alone."

Saemus looked up as if he'd heard and gave them a quick half-smile before turning back to the collection of young women who'd cornered him by the string quartet.

"Maker, I never get used to those eyes," said Anders and took another sip of his well-watered wine.

"Whoever dresses him knows their business," Garrett agreed. Green Orlesian silk made Saemus's eyes leap out like gemstones.

"Dresses him?" Anders echoed.

"Well, chooses his clothing, at least. Somehow I can't see Saemus standing still for actual dressing."

"They do that in the Marches? I thought that was an Orlesian thing."

"Orlesians. They get everywhere, like sand."

"Serrah Hawke," said Guillame de Launcet, proving his point. "How lovely to see you tonight. I had thought that perhaps you were going to retreat from society altogether."

Garrett gathered up with manners and made a polite bow. His mother had thought this man worthwhile, once. "Not at all. May I introduce my consort, Serrah Anders."

Anders gave him a startled, pleased glance and then made a passable bow.

"Enchante," said de Launcet and sounded like he meant it.

"My lords and ladies," said a servant from the top of the stairs. "Please clear the floor for the first dance of the evening."

"Poor Saemus," muttered Garrett.

"The burdens of position," de Launcet agreed.

Saemus took a deep breath, extended a polite hand to Flora Harriman, and then led her out onto the floor.

The Viscount stood and clapped his hands for attention. "On the occasion of the my son's twenty-second birthday, let us make merry and celebrate Kirkwall's future!"

The quartet struck up. Saemus and Flora stepped out. After four long measures, other couples began to drift forward to join them.

"He's good at that," said Anders, close in Garrett's ear.

"Do you dance?" Garrett asked, sliding his hand around Anders's waist.

"Well, there was one move that Karl liked to call my 'spicy shimmy,'" Anders began.

Garrett tugged him out onto the floor.

Anders wasn't much of a dancer, to be truthful, but he followed beautifully. Their bodies, after all, could not have known one another better. They made several turns around the floor, Anders smiling at Garrett in a way that made the whole world seem worthwhile. When the music ended, Anders leaned forward and whispered into Garrett's ear.

"Saemus should get a birthday present, don't you think?"

Garrett laughed, turned his head til his lips were a breath away from Anders's earlobe and said, "Oh, definitely. I think it should be you."

Anders shivered a little. When he stepped back and bowed, his eyes were dark and intent.

Garrett partnered a few ladies, carefully and smilingly polite. Even Anders's presence in his life had not ended the constant societal pressure to marry, and he wasn't about to give some matron an excuse to show up for tea with her daughter in tow. He passed Saemus on the floor as he steered Lady Percivalla through a Cinque Pas and gave him a meaningful look.

Saemus's eyebrows went up and the faintest hint of pink flushed over his cheekbones.

"Doesn't he blush becomingly?" asked Percivalla as they turned and strutted back the way they'd come.

"The Viscount's son is a fine young man," said Garrett.

"You are cruel, to tease him so," she said. "I hear you and your ... consort are inseparable."

"Anders has my heart," said Garrett. "He does not care where I cast my eyes." He smiled down at her until she blushed as well.

"Heartbreaker," Anders chided him when he came off the dance floor. "I saw you, you know."

"Oh, were you watching me?" asked Garrett, smiling a little.

"I'm always watching you," said Anders. He trailed a finger over the embroidery on Garrett's chest.

"Serrah Hawke, Serrah Anders." Saemus made a little bow. "You honor me with your presence."

"The honor is ours," said Garrett, bowing back.

"Happy birthday, Peach," Anders murmured.

Saemus ducked his head, blushing again.

"How are you enjoying the ball?" Garrett asked.

"My father keeps shoving me at eligible girls." Saemus turned the full force of his eyes on Garrett. "Save me."

"Well," said Garrett. "I did bring you a present. To be opened in private."

Saemus's breath went out in a little gasp. Garrett was close enough to see his pupils expand, his pulse leap beneath the skin of his throat. "Here?" he asked in a whisper.

"Well, not on the dance floor," said Garrett. "Meet us on top balcony of the main hall in ten minutes."

Saemus bit his lip and then nodded. "Pray excuse me," he said, slightly louder. "I must make the rounds."

"Are we going to fuck him across his father's desk?" asked Anders.

"No," said Garrett. "He's going to fuck you."

The upper balcony was deserted other than one of Aveline's guards making her slow leisurely patrol. She dropped a wink at Garrett as they passed her.

"Looking for a quiet corner, Serrah?"

"Sometimes you have to make your own fun," said Anders.

"I'll just go patrol the other side, shall I?" she said.

Of course, the Viscount's office was locked but Garrett wasn't friends with two of the most untrustworthy rogues Kirkwall had to offer for nothing. He wasn't going to be teasing open any treasure houses any time soon but he had them through the door in less than two minutes.

Dumas's office was a mess, as usual. Garrett wrinkled his nose at the plate of half-eaten sandwiches on the side table.

"This man rules the city," he said. "Can't he get someone to pick up after him?"

"Dumas doesn't rule the city," said Anders, his voice going bitter. "We both know that."

"Still, surely he could get a maid to listen to him."

"He better hope he can, after tonight," said Anders and rested one hip on the edge of the desk. "There's nothing really important on here, is there?"

"I'm sure the Senechal has copies of everything," said Garrett, coming over to put a hand on Anders's thigh. "He's that sort of man."

Anders toyed with the collar of his doublet. "Well, in that case..." He lifted himself fully onto the desk and wrapped his legs around Garrett to draw him closer. Paper crackled and rustled underneath him. "Warm me up," he said. "Saemus is on his way. You don't want to give him a cold present, do you?"

"Maker forfend," said Garrett, taking hold of Anders's hips and pulling him in close, so their groins met. He was half-erect but Anders was already hard as ironbark. "Like this, do you?" he asked. "Sex in dangerous places. Naughty apostate."

Anders laughed, low and husky. "This isn't dangerous. Dangerous is sucking a new recruit off in the templars' bathing chamber. Throwing up sweet little Surana's skirts in the Entropy section of the library. Taking it from Karl after hours in the kitchens on a sack of ..."

Garrett cut him off with a kiss, his blood heating at the thought of Anders, young and fresh, on his knees in front of a blushing, desperate templar, those amber eyes glancing up through his golden hair ...

Anders was still laughing against his lips, so smug. We'll see about that, Garrett thought and stepped away.

"You're plenty warm," he said. "Undress."

Anders never lost the smirk, only put his hands to his laces and began to undo them. When he went to shrug the doublet off, Garrett put up a hand to stop him. "Leave it on. Unlace the shirt. Right to your waist, yes. Now the boots. Good. Lean back. On your elbows." Garrett surveyed the picture Anders made and stepped up to tug loose the ribbon that held his hair. "There."

"I feel like a doxy on display," said Anders.

Garrett went around the desk, drew out the chair, and sat. "You're not a doxy, darling," he said, leaning back. "You're a present."

"I'm half unwrapped," Anders complained lightly.

There was a scuff of feet across carpet in the anteroom and then the foor opened. Saemus poked his head around, an endearing expression of inquiry on his face and then froze.

"Happy birthday, Peach," said Garrett.

"Uhm ..." said Saemus faintly.

"Come in and shut the door," said Anders, swinging one foot idly. "Unless you want the lovely guard to wander back along this way, drawn by our moans of passion."

Saemus stepped inside with alacrity and closed the door. He smiled at them, the open, smirky little smile he only wore when it was the three of them in private. Garrett loved that smile. "I think I like this better than the matched coursing hounds or the embroidered Antivan leather boots."

"Hopefully we smell better," said Anders.

Saemus's smile grew just a bit wider and he stepped over to the desk to inhale across Anders's bare chest. Garrett saw the gooseflesh leap out at the nape of Anders's neck. "Definitely," said Saemus.

Anders, instead of sliding a hand round the nape of Saemus's neck and pulling him up for a kiss, let his own head drop backward, his muscles loosen just a bit, and sighed. Saemus blinked uncertainly, looked at Garrett.

"You're in charge," said Garrett.

Anders tipped his head back up, looked at Saemus through his lashes - Maker, Garrett knew that look - and sucked at his bottom lip, leaving it moist and red.

"In charge?" asked Saemus.

"Only if you want to be," said Anders. He rose off his elbows to run his fingertips along the front of Saemus's doublet. "Peach," said Anders. Saemus shivered. "Would you like to fuck me?"

"Yes," said Saemus. He leaned in and kissed Anders, threading hands through the thick golden-red fall of his hair.

"Maker, the two of you ... beautiful," said Garrett. He began to unlace his own clothing.

Saemus pulled away, cupping Anders's face. "Naked," he said. "I want you naked."

"Yes," said Anders. He shrugged off his doublet and shirt together, tossing them on the floor. Saemus kissed him again, like he couldn't help himself, making small, needy noises. Anders fumbled at the laces of Saemus's doublet until Garrett came around the desk and undressed Saemus from behind, peeling away silk and linen and leaving the ivory flesh bare.

Anders lay back on the desk, lifting his hips to let Saemus pull his pants and smalls off and then he was naked, gloriously naked in the Viscount's office, all golden and smiling and writhing backward across the papers to give himself a bit more room.

Garrett leaned on the end of the desk, curious to see how this would play out. He was used to a pliant, willing, yielding Anders, but where Saemus was concerned, Anders had always taken a much more dominant role. He was the master in their shared play, and the way that Saemus responded to him was breathtaking.

Now Anders lay across the scattered edict and letters of state, loose limbed and waiting and silent. Saemus looked at him as if he didn't know where to start.

"Need a hand, Peach?" asked Garrett.

Saemus shook his head and put a hand on Anders's chest, spreading his fingers into the sparse gold-red curls. "You don't want what I want," he said to Anders. "Do you?"

Anders shook his head and for a second something dark and troubled moved in his face.

"You don't want to be held, or hurt," Saemus went on. "I can tell." He was so earnest. His eyes held Anders's, direct and honest. The intensity between them was like something tangible. "I think I know what you want." He bent over, his hand still pressed against Anders, and kissed him, slowly, sweetly, eyes shut.

Anders shut his eyes as well, tipped his face into the kiss. When Saemus drew back, Anders was smiling dreamily.

Saemus looked at Garrett. "I want to be between you," he said. "Can we do that?"

"Maker, yes," said Garrett.

Anders fell back onto the desk, head on a logbook, elbow nudging dangerously at an inkwell. "How do you want me?" he asked. "Like this? Up against a wall? Shall I bend over the desk?

"What - what's best?" asked Saemus.

"They all have their merits," said Garrett, shedding the last of his clothing. "It's your birthday. You decide."

"Like this," said Saemus, lifting one of Anders's legs and bending it back, spreading him out.

"Fuck," Garrett muttered, setting the pot of salve on the desk. "Anders, you look edible."

"You should see things from down here," said Anders, slightly breathless.

Saemus kissed the inside of his knee, the inside of his thigh, the sweet hollow between his leg and groin. Anders sucked in a breath and clenched his buttocks, lifting his hips upward, offering his himself. Saemus paused, breathing lightly on Anders's cock and then dipped lower and took one of his balls gently in his mouth.

"Oh fuck," said Anders and thumped his head once against the desk.

Garrett put a hand on the back of Saemus's neck, not to direct, just to feel the movement, the tension. Saemus moaned and then Anders moaned and then Garrett crowded up against Saemus and nestled his cock into the crack of his ass.

Garrett rocked against Saemus a few times, until Saemus was pushing back against him, spreading his legs and tilting his hips. He'd moved from Anders's balls to his cock, nibbling teasingly up the side while Anders bit at his lips and curled his toes and looked desperate.

Garrett watched until Saemus took pity and ran his tongue over Anders's prick from base to tip. Then he fell to his knees, took one perfect buttock in each hand, and spread Seamus wide.

"Garrett, unh!"

There it was, clenching tight. Garrett kissed the skin just above, relishing the tremble and flinch. Saemus had been shy about this particular treat, laughing and shaking his head when they asked, yet watching with avid fascination when they indulged with one another.

"Say no, Peach," said Garrett, and kissed just below, where the flesh was firm and tight with arousal.

"Maker," Saemus moaned. It was followed by a wet noise and a "Sweet Andraste!" from Anders, which Garrett took as permission.

Saemus tasted of sweat and dark musk and a slight, floral bitterness. Garrett imagined him, alone in his bedchamber, naked, dusting his body with Orlesian scented powder and smiled. Saemus had taken to doing such things, scents and hair pomade which did nothing to tame his wild brush and clothing that catches the colour of his eyes. He did it for them, Garrett was sure. It was sweet and slightly ridiculous and totally unnecessary.

It took several swipes to clear away the taste of the powder, to lave up the salt, to get Saemus to relax enough so Garrett could tease the tip of his tongue into him.

Saemus made a muffled, pleading noise and Anders scrabbled at the desk.

"What are you doing to him, Garrett?" Anders gasped.

Garrett pulled away. "What do you think?"

"Oh, Maker, yes," Anders said. "Can you get your tongue in? Put your tongue in him, Garrett."

"Presents don't give orders," said Garrett and rose to his feet again. He found the salve, slicked up his fingers, and slid one into Saemus, right to the last knuckle.

Saemus rose off Anders's cock, gasping. "Fuck," he whispered, his hips jerking backward.

"Open him," Garrett said into his ear, wrapping his free arm around Saemus and strumming a taut nipple gently.

Saemus dipped into the salve and hesitantly brushed his middle fingertip against Anders's arsehole.

"In," said Garrett, demonstrating with a second finger.

"Unh!" Saemus pushed.

Garrett's lips parted as Anders parted around Saemus's finger. "Anders," he said, voice thick. "How does it feel?"

Anders made a contented, lazy sound, arching his back a bit.

"Give him two," said Garrett. "Right away. I was in him not three hours ago, he can take it." He pumped his own fingers into Saemus.

Saemus turned his hand slowly palm up and Garrett saw the tendons flex as he curled his finger inside Anders.

"Ah!" Anders jerked on the desk. "Maker. Do that aga- ah!"

Saemus pulled almost all the way out and then pushed in again with two.

Garrett went to three, working Saemus slow and lovingly, dropping his other hand down to Saemus's cock, stroking him in time. Saemus was panting and Anders was, too.

"Now," said Garrett. "Maker, do it now." He tugged on Saemus's cock, aiming it at Anders's pulsing, leaping pucker.

"No, wait." Saemus added a third finger, bending over Anders, watching his face. "Anders. Tell me you're ready."

"Fuck, yes," said Anders. "Slide that gorgeous cock all into me, Peach. Please."

Saemus kissed him. He was trembling a bit when he pulled back. Garrett snugged him back against Garrett's chest and kissed the side of his neck.

"Lovely Peach," he murmured affectionately.

He and Saemus cupped Saemus's cock together, one hand each, and guided it up against Anders.

"Talk," Anders murmured. "Talk to me."

"I - what should I - oh, Maker." Saemus was looking down, watching as his cock pressed against Anders's arse, as it began to move inside.

"Tell ... tell me," said Anders. He was looking down the length of his body as well, Garrett was looking over Saemus's shoulders, they were all watching it happen. "How you feel. How it feels."

"Tight," said Saemus. "And hot. You're hot inside, Anders. So smooth, fuck, Anders. I can - I feel when you ..."

Anders smiled with one half of his mouth and his abdominals tightened briefly.

"Oh," said Saemus, a small, naked sound.

Garrett said nothing at all, only put his hands on Saemus's hips and urged him gently forward. When Saemus hilted, he made another one of those little noises.

"In," said Anders. He shuddered slightly. "In me, Saemus."

Garrett pushed on the back of Saemus's neck, bending him forward over Anders, who reached up and took hold of Saemus's face and pulled him in for another kiss. When Garrett pushes in, the two of them both moan, into one another's mouths, and Garrett has a heady moment of power, topping them both at once, watching Saemus's fingers dig at the surface of the desk, watching Anders's hand fist in Saemus's hair.

"Maker, Garrett," said Anders. He tilts his head back and Saemus whimpers against his throat.

"It's like I'm fucking you through him," said Garrett and Saemus gasped out a laugh.

"Just do it," said Anders. "Someone just do something." He sounded a little desperate.

Saemus rocked back against Garrett, experimentally. "I think I can ... oh. Ohhhh," as he rocked forward again.

Anders lifted up as best he could, scrabbling his heels against the edge of the desk. Garrett held still, letting Saemus do the work, bracing himself against the steadily harder jerks of Saemus's hips.

"Yes," he said. "Saemus, Saemus." He slid his hands up and down Saemus's back, feeling the muscles tense and flex under his palms. "Can you go harder? He wants it, look at him."

Anders groaned through his teeth.

"Touch him," said Garrett. "Stroke his cock. He's yours, he wants to be yours."

Saemus wrapped a hand around Anders's prick and squeezed, rubbing a thumb across the slit, spreading precome wetly over the head.

"Fuck!" Anders thumped his head against the desk.

"Anders," said Garrett. "Fuck. How does it ... how is he?"

"Good," said Anders. "He's good, he ... oh, Maker."

"Keep talking," said Saemus. "Garrett."

"What shall I say?" asked Garrett. "Tell you how gorgeous you are on my cock? How beautifully you fuck? Anders has been talking about this for days, getting you in him."

"Yes," said Saemus.

"Opening for you," said Garrett. "Isn't it breathtaking? The trust, the abandon. All for you, Saemus."

Saemus let go Anders's cock and ran two fingers along Anders's jaw. Anders turned his head and took them in his mouth.

"Suck them," said Saemus. Anders's cheeks hollowed and Saemus groaned. He pulled his fingers out and spread his hand out for Anders to lick, palm to fingertips, before dropping it back down to Anders's cock.

"Please," said Anders. "Oh, please."

Saemus lowered his head. His breath steepened.

His pace didn't quicken much - it was too difficult to keep everything in rhythm, all three of them moving as one - so they just rocked onward measuredly, sweat dripping down Saemus's back, his control and patience nearly driving Garrett insane. He could only imagine what it was like to be Anders.

"Saemus, Peach, please, oh Maker, you heartless, wretched ... ah, Maker, I need, I need, Peach, Peeeeach ..." Anders's babbling was breathy and desperate and didn't speed Saemus at all, though his breathing grew ragged. "Peach, dammit, fuck me," Anders begged.

"I am," said Saemus, and Garrett was sure he heard a thread of amusement there.

Anders laughed. It turned into a groan.

"I am fucking you," said Seamus. "Here. On my f - father's desk, Maker. Everything I ever wanted, right here. Under me. In me." His movements did not speed but became jerkier. "Ah! I'm going to, I'm ..."

"Yes, yes." Anders scrabbled at Saemus's chest. "Please."

Saemus hunched his shoulders and began jerking Anders with quick, smooth strokes, two to every thrust of his hips.

When Anders bit down on his lower lip and came, Garrett couldn't help himself anymore and began lifting his hips into Saemus. Everything dissolved into hasty, frantic rutting, the desk scraping across the floor, Saemus making little whimper-cries, Anders grasping at the edge of the desk to try and anchor himself.

Saemus shuddered, shivered, gasped out his completion and Garrett pinned him down on Anders and finally, finally, took his own pleasure. The two of them kissed beneath him as he spilled into Saemus.

Garrett gave himself half a moment to collect his shattered brain and rest his sweating forehead against Saemus' sweating back.

"Andraste's dimpled arse," said Anders, down below somewhere. "My back is breaking." Saemus began to laugh and Garrett levered himself upright. "There." Anders pointed to a side table, and the decorative cloth laid over it.

"That's - that was gifted to the Viscount's office by the Orlesian ..." Saemus trailed off as Garrett bunched it up and held it beneath his cock as he pulled out. "Well, it's soft at least," he said and began snickering again.

It took them several minutes to disengage and clean up, with much kissing and cupping and half-hearted attempts at straightening up the room. Anders sat on the edge of the desk, tying the laces of his shirt and watching Garrett try to stack the papers. "Don't bother, love," he said. "It reeks of sex in here, there's no hiding it."

Saemus covered his face with his hands. "Oh, Maker. If my father finds out that I -"

"He won't," said Garrett. "I - arranged things. Right now, your father is under the impression that you are taking a stroll down Viscount's way with a young lady."

Saemus smiled. "You do think of everything."

Garrett made an effort to, if not tidy, then to return Saemus' hair to the same sort of disarranged it had been in when they'd begun. "Sneak out early," he suggested. "We got you a few other presents."

"I'll do my best," said Saemus.

"Oh, hold up," said Anders, came over, and pressed a faintly glowing palm to Saemus' neck. "I'll just have to redo that later," he said.

"Yes, you will," said Saemus.

"Mmn, bossy all of a sudden," said Garrett. "I like it. We should explore this."

Saemus blushed. "I will try to get away."

"I'll leave the door unlocked," said Garrett, with half a glance at Anders, who smiled in remembrance.

"Happy birthday, Peach," said Anders, as Garrett opened the door and checked the hall.

Saemus smiled, unselfconscious, happy. "Thank you," he said.


End file.
